Disgusted, Not Despicable, Slayer
by Manchester
Summary: It's always best to get along with the people next door, since you might need your own favor from them afterwards. This crackfic definitely has to be an AU ten years on, don't you think?


Buffy was putting away this morning's breakfast dishes in the Cleveland Slayers House when she decided that her limit for the ridiculous had at last been surpassingly exceeded by what she was now seeing outside in the back yard. Fixedly staring ahead through the kitchen window by the dishwasher, this young woman asked out loud in her most dangerous tone, "Whose bright idea was this, anyway?"

"Hell, B," answered Faith from the small table in its kitchen nook where she'd been drinking her cup of coffee, "Ain't it part 'a the whole suburbs shit? The neighbors go on vacation, ya pick up their mail and newspaper fer them, feed the dog or cat or whatever-"

At that point, Buffy had slowly turned around to give her sister Slayer a most deadly glower which differed considerably from the saccharine interuption then sweetly delivered by the blonde, "-look after the Minions?"

Faith just shrugged. "We were too damn tired comin' all the way from your former hometown in that crowded bus to pay any attention 'bout who was livin' next to the first place for us all with enough room that we could afford, 'member? Yeah, sure, the fact every last one'a the houses in the whole block had 'FOR SALE' signs on 'em shoulda made us a bit suspicious, but it worked out okay in the end, ya haveta admit. The Gru guy ain't all that bothersome now. He don't even wanna rule the world so much, what with keepin' busy lookin' after his new kids like a proper dad should."

Buffy's sour expression softened a trifle, but she rallied to complain again, "That's not what I'm talking about! Margo, Agnes, and Edith are totally adorable, and even _he's_ kind of charming in some weird, super-villainish way. I'm perfectly fine with that, but when they all went to spend a weekend at Lake Erie, why'd Xander have to get talked into agreeing to take care of those little yellow walking lozenges?"

Now intrigued, Faith got up from the table and wandered over to where Buffy was standing. The other Slayer naturally brought along her coffee cup, and after another slurp of this liquid, she remarked, "What's got you so pissed off, B?"

Heaving a very resigned sigh, Buffy simply jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the kitchen window. Glancing there past the other woman, Faith abruptly froze stock-still for a moment. Then, she burst into raucous laughter, her whole body shaking with this unexpected mirth.

Rolling her eyes in grouchy exasperation, Buffy stomped out of the kitchen on her way to somewhere else where actual sanity reigned. She left behind in her wake a still-giggling Faith, who on the other hand was marking today as one of the recent high points in her life due to what was presently occurring in the Slayer House's back yard.

There, Xander Harris carrying some carpentry tools for fixing the wooden rear fence was thoughtfully examining the damage to this from the last careless Slayer who didn't get enough altitude in her jump over the now-flattened section of fence. Patiently lined up behind this one-eyed man were about a dozen Minions, all of which were holding ready their own repair tools should their temporary Master ask for their assistance.

Each and every one of the Minions were also wearing upon their presumed faces not the usual metal goggles they ordinarily displayed, but rather a matching black eyepatch in honor of "...blipblipblopblancocaballeroblipblip..."

A flicker of motion caught Faith's attention from out of the corner of her own vision. She watched with fascination how one more Minion now staggered into view from around the right side of their large residence. That small, banana-colored, artificial life-form was having some trouble in walking towards his fellow underlings. This was due to possessing only a single eye completely covered by yet another eyepatch, plus in its blind advance, the Minion was carrying with some difficulty a full-sized chainsaw.

Over the sudden sound of this portable motor-driven saw ratcheting up into a roar of action outside along with several high-pitched alarmed yells (and one manly shriek of fright), Faith happily said to herself, "Damn, but yer gettin' for free what a helluva lotta folks would pay good cash money for!"


End file.
